


Is 'Family' Just A Word?

by DarkAlpha67



Series: Shameless Indulgence- Drabbles [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Baby Yevgeny Milkovich, Big Sister Fiona, Caring Ian, Emotionally Constipated Mickey, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Good dad!Mickey, Good mother!Svetlana, In the distance future, M/M, Mention of abuse, Minor Violence, Not In Chronological Order, Protective Mickey, Semi-Domestic Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Svetlana calls Yevgeny 'Evgeni', caring Fiona
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: She felt fucking useless and pathetic as she limped up the stoned steps, the warm body of her little Evgeni pressed tightly against her chest, the only coat she had time to grab covering him from the cold weather. His tiny little exhales where enough for her to draw strength, pushing away the throbbing pain in her head, the heavy, burning agony of her leg.*Part of the 'Sucker For Pain' Verse*Chapter 2 now added: the one where Mickey gets his revenge with a fluffy Gallavich ending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, not sure if I mentioned this before but this series won't be chronological order. Events that will happen will be their future, present or past. 
> 
> With this verse, I get random Ideas and I just decided I will be posting them anyway instead of waiting for God knows how long to find the 'proper' place for it, if that ever happens.

She felt fucking useless and pathetic as she limped up the stoned steps, the warm body of her little Evgeni pressed tightly against her chest, the only coat she had time to grab covering him from the cold weather. His tiny little exhales where enough for her to draw strength, pushing away the throbbing pain in her head, the heavy, burning agony of her leg.

Growing up, Svetlana never knew what family meant. To her, family meant shit. Her father sold her off when she was barely old to learn how to fend for herself. Her mother was some whore, who only saw her as a waste and who her father had beaten to death when she told him she was leaving them.

She knew how cold, and ugly this world was and as she stared at the wooden door, she prayed that the two people who made her life just a bit brighter, still cared enough to help her.

Shifting Yevgeny, Svetlana knocked on the door. Her baby boy stirred at the sound, and she pressed her lips to his head of blonde hair, soothing him back into sleep where only the ignorant and innocent found peace.

She stepped away and looked around for the any sign of light. Panic and fear filled her as she wrapped her knuckles against the door, louder this time. Her teeth sunk into her swollen lip, her hand ached from the continued knocking of her bruised knuckles.

By this time, Yevy seemed to sense her distress. He rubbed his face into her chest and she bounced him gently. “Shh.” She hushed him softly, looking up at the door and felt the hated burning sensation in her eyes.

Knocking again, she tried to keep her emotions in control. One more try and then she would leave. She didn’t know what she would do, she had no one else to turn to and why would she? Svetlana had long ago accepted that she had no place with others in this world.

She lifted her hand once again, then froze.

Staring that the door, she swallowed down the urge to cry. Yevgeny shifted in her arms and Svetlana nodded to herself, accepting her fate.

With a deep breathe, she turned around, tightening her hold on her son, cupping the back of his head to pull him closer. Her foot at just reached the last step when she heard the loud sound of lock turning and a door opening.

“What—Lana?”

Her stomach flipped and she spun around, eyes wide and hopeful, a feeling she squashed a second later, hardening her featuring and her eyes as she met his, green and blown as he took her in. She looked like shit and she hated the pity that flashed across his face.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Ian asked her, stepping out of the house and toward her. She tightened her hold on her son as fear took over in that second at having another man this close to her so soon after what happened.

“I beat up piece of shit man.” She answered him, going for the truth instead of lying to him.

Ian opened his mouth, paused, and close it the next second. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

He stepped aside and placed a hand over her back but he didn’t touch her and for that she was grateful. The second she entered the house, warmth washed over her trembling body. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so alone but she wasn’t stupid enough to let that go to her head.

The door closed behind her and soft padding of feet followed. “He sleeping?”

She turned, just as Yevgeny shook his head to get out from under her coat. Svetlana watched sadly, as a wide grin broke out across Ian’s face, sweet and kind as she remembered it.

“Hey, buddy.” He greeted softly.

Just then, she heard shuffling from down the hallway. “Who the fuck was at the door?” Svetlana swallowed, looking over in time to see the piece of shit walking in, rubbing at his eye with the palm of his eyes. She said nothing, holding onto her composure as blue eyes snapped up at the sound of Yevgeny humming and twisting in her arms to see his father.

“What the fuck!” Mickey exclaimed, jaw dropping and dark eyebrows crinkling. His eyes ran over her, “Who the fuck—“ He stopped himself and stalked over to her, hand reaching out and pulling the coat further back.

“He’s fine.” Svetlana told him, but Mickey ignored her. He made move to take her son but Svetlana stepped back and away from him, drawing Yevgeny closer. “I said he was fine.”

Mickey glared at her. “Hand me my fucking kid, Svet.”

“No.”

Mickey opened his mouth and a bright red head of hair stepped in between them, back to Mickey, eyes on Svetlana. “Who did this to you?” He asked gently but she saw the anger in his eyes.

Carrot boy was like a storm. It was calm and then suddenly, it destroyed everything in its path.

“No one important.”

Mickey appeared beside Ian. “You better give me a fucking name, I ain’t playing around.”

“No.” She forced out, wanting to forget about the man and what he’d done. “He is taken care of.”

“What the fuck does that—“

“That what happened to your hand?” Ian asked, speaking over Mickey.

Svetlana looked away from her ex-husband and over to Ian, nodding silently. She shifted her son around and pulled the coat off him, throwing it onto the couch. The second Yevgeny could see everyone, he twisted around and his tiny arms stretched out toward Ian, who made no move to take him, eyes on Svetlana.

A moment passed before she nodded shakily, loosening her grip enough, watching with sharp eyes as Ian stepped forward and took her son into his arms, leaning in to drop a kiss on his forehead. Her heart broke just a bit when, the second Yev was in Ian’s arms, his eyes started to droop.

“Mickey get my stuff.” Ian said, turning to look over to the other man shortly before turning his attention back to Svetlana. “Take a seat.”

She scowled, putting up the act of annoyance as she turned and did as she was told. Svetlana forced herself not to wince at the pain that shot through her body with every step she took and not to lean into the soft cushions as she sunk down onto the couch. Ian took a seat beside her, her son secure in his arms.

“Here.” An annoyed voice said from behind them.

She didn’t need to see his face to know he was glaring at her. He always hated her, and she didn’t blame him. She was a reminder of the worst thing to ever happen to him and Svetlana, once, had stupidly thought they could move past that day, but that was then and this was now.

“Take him for a second.” Ian gently ordered and Mickey, with a glance toward her, took Yev from him, shushing her son when he grumbled.

She expected him to walk away, to pretend she wasn’t even there but instead, he lowered himself down onto the small little table in front of the couch, facing her with hard eyes.

“Are all the injuries visible?” Ian asked her and when Svetlana turned to look at him, she saw on his lap at small box with a bunch of supplied in it.

Without another word, she shrugged out of her thin jacket, her expression careless as she moved to pull off her shirt too, leaving her in her bra. She felt Mickey’s eyes on her, felt the annoyance in them but she focused on Ian as he took her, expression revealing nothing.

“Get a bowl of water, Mick.”

And with that, Ian got to work as Mickey stood up. Through it all, Svetlana barely flinched at the sting on her lip, her eyebrow. She lifted her eyes and tilted her head back when Ian got to work on the marks on her next from where the piece of shit had dug his nails in as he tried to choke her.

She shifted when Ian asked her too, she flexed her hands for Ian, let him pock and prod at her ribs to make sure nothing was broken and in all that time, neither Ian nor Mickey said anything.

Svetlana dreaded the moment when she had to tell him more than she just beat the man up who did this. She knew, that although her and Mickey were on better terms than before, he might tell her to fuck off.

“Okay, why don’t you take a shower and then I’ll patch you up.” Ian spoke after a lengthy silence.

Svetlana frowned over at him. “No, I go.” She turned to Mickey. “Evgeni stay the night.”

It wasn’t a question. They could throw her out for all she cared but they needed to keep Yevgeny for the time until she sorted her shit out.

“Fuck that. Take a fucking shower, you look like shit.”

Svetlana shot the piece of shit a glare but he just raised his eyebrows in that annoying way of his.

A warm hand fell on her shoulder. “Hot water will help, Lana. We got that spare room for you and Yev.”

She bit the inside of her cheek while Ian gave her an encouraging smile and Mickey glared at her into submission.

“Fine.” She forced out, trying to sound pissed off as a wave of relief and joy flooded her. She grimaced as she stood up, casting one last concerned yet soft look to her sleeping son before heading toward the bathroom.

 

*

 

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down.”

“What are gonna do, Mick? Find the guy and beat him to death? You don’t even know his name.”

“Then I’ll ask the bitch and won’t stop until she tells me!”

“Keep your voice down.”

Svetlana felt something stir inside as she heard the argument. With a small sniff, she shook her head and walked down the short hallway toward the living room. Her eyes fell on Mickey and Ian, the small man standing by the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand and Ian standing on the other end, staring at him.

“Mickey, she won’t tell you shit---”

“Then I’ll fucking drive around, until I find the motherfucker.” Mickey spat out.

She took another step and the floor boards creaked. Two heads snapped over to where Svetlana stood in a pair of sweat and a shirt she knew was Carrot Boy’s.

“Hey.” Ian said softly, giving her a smile. “Shower okay?”

Svetlana nodded only once before turning to Mickey. “I tell you I take care of it. I fight back and take Yevgeny before he hurt him.”

“I don’t fucking care.” Mickey told her and Ian winced. “That fucker touched you. He ain’t gonna be breathing long.”

This time, it was Svetlana who frowned at him. “Me?”

Mickey’s face twisted. “What the fuck you mean ‘me’? Yes, fucking you. Who the fuck else would I be talking about?”

She saw Ian shaking his head from the corner of her eye, his lips tugging up. “Fuck, you can do dumb sometimes.”

“Wanna speak up there, mumbles?” Mickey asked in that tone Svetlana always thought made him sound like a bitch.

“Nothing.” Ian said before turning back to Svetlana. “Why don’t I cover the cuts and then you can get some sleep? We put Yev on his old crib.”

Svetlana looked between the two, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am fine.”

“Good for you.” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fucking do as he says. Want beer?”

After a pause, Svetlana walked over to the two and sat down one of the chairs while Ian got the box of supplies. She nodded to Mickey and he turned to get her beer, opening it and placing it on the counter in front of her as Ian stood by her side.

“Ribs okay?” He asked softly, eyes fixed on the cut on her eyebrow.

“Had worse.” She answered, taking a dip of the beer.

Mickey grunted and drowned the rest of his beer, saying nothing to that.

It wasn’t long, and by the time Ian had finished, Mickey was already on his second bottle and she had just finished hers. “There we go. All done.” He said loudly as if to brighten the tense mood.

Svetlana wasted no time and got up. “ _Spasibo._ ” She thanked him.

“ _Mne bylo priyatno_.” He replied.

A small grin formed on her lips. “Your Russian is shitty.” She stepped forward and leaned over to press a soft kiss on his cheek, remembering a time when that gesture had made her feel like she had a family.

Pulling away, Svetlana shot Mickey a grateful look before turning around, limping slightly toward the spare bedroom.

“Ay!” Mickey called out.

She turned and looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised. Blue eyes bore into his. “Your ass better fucking be here when I wake up.”

“Or what?”

Mickey glared at her. “Bitch, don’t try me.”

Ian groaned. “Jesus Christ, can you two just fucking say ‘I love you’ like normal people? You’re like to fucking children.”

A snort left Svetlana and a disgusted look covered Mickey’s face.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Ian turned dramatically to face Svetlana. “Lana, we love you and care about you and what Mickey meant to say was that you are gonna be staying with us and that’s the end of that story.”

“I don’t fucking love her.” Mickey said under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest like a big child.

Svetlana rolled her eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from showing. “Fine.” She gave Ian one last smile before heading toward the room.

 

*

 

Years later, and she was still living with them, in their house with their son and daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Ian awoke the second the heat pressed against his chest shifted and then vanished. He groaned softly at the cold chill that ran over his bare skin, felt his arm tighten and tense, seeking for Mickey, except he felt nothing.

With a throaty grunt, he peeled his eyes open, blinking away the urge to allow them to fall shut. He squinted, looking out in front of him to the pale form wondering around, slipping on his jeans and shoes. A shirt followed and then Ian’s green hoodie.

“Wha’ you doing?” Ian whisper, his voice husky from the sleep.

Mickey didn’t even appear startled, he simply turned around and lowered himself down onto the bed, reaching over to run a gentle hand through Ian’s close cropped hair, thumb stroking his forehead, causing an involuntary sigh to escape the red-head.

“Gonna head out for a bit.” Mickey said. “You keep an eye out for Yev and Svetlana. Don’t let the kid wake her up.”

Ian’s green eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up, the sheets slipping from his bare chest, pooling at his waist. He met Mickey’s blue eyes, instantly locking onto the storm brewing within. He noticed the slight tick in Mickey’s jaw, the way lips were pressed tightly together.

“Mickey, don’t—”

“I ain’t gonna get caught, Gallagher.” Mickey cut him off, eyes serious.

Ian paused, debating his options before he made move to push himself off. “I’m coming with you.”

“Ay, no.” A hand cupped his cheek, pushing him back to face Mickey. “You gotta be here for them, man. I can handle shit on my own and ‘sides, you’re an EMT, can’t be doing shit like this.” A rough pad stroked his skin. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Ian clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to keep his words in. He wanted to tell Mickey not to go, but to do that would be telling Mickey not to be the man he loved. The lengths he went to protect the people closest to him was the few things Ian had first learned about Mickey when they first started dating, and that trait had become so integrated in his identity that nobody who knew Mickey Milkovich could say that there wasn’t a single fucking thing he wouldn’t do for family.

Reaching over, he grabbed Mickey’s face between his hands and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Mickey tilted his head and opened his mouth instantly, welcoming Ian’s warm tongue, stroking it against his. Ian’s nipped at his bottom lip, pressing a sweet kiss, once, twice, thrice, before pulling back.

“Three hours and then I’m coming for you.” Ian vowed.

A smirk formed on Mickey’s lips. “And we both know how much you love doing that, ain’t that right, Firecrotch?”

Ian huffed, “Fuck off,” and pecked his lips one last time before allowing Mickey to pull away and get off the bed. He followed him with worried eyes as his boyfriend pulled open their draw and a second later a gun appeared in his hand.

“ _Mick._ ”

“It’s just for precaution.” Mickey turned as he tucked it into the back of his jeans. “I ain’t gonna use it.” He walked over to the door, looking over his shoulder to wink at Ian before he walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

 

*

 

By the time, Mickey found the house, he was burning. That’s how pissed off he was. Svetlana’s busted face kept flashing before his eyes, the way she cradled Yevgeny to her chest to get him away from Mickey.

It took paying Kev and Vee a visit to get some idea as to who Svetlana had been talking about at the bar, to tracking down one of the whores she still hanged out with who led him to a guy by the name of Vlad, who Mickey was sure was probably trying to fix his broken nose at this moment. That will teach the fucker not to waste people’s fucking time.

It was Vlad that led him to this piece of scum’s house. Dmitri.

Mickey didn’t bother trying to hide in the shadows. He stalked over to the front door, feet pounding against the wooden steps. Mickey slammed the side of his fist against the door, knocking loudly.

He heard movement on the other end when he paused for a moment.

Taking a step back, he felt his muscles tense up, getting ready for a fight.

The doorknob turned, and with a loud, nerve grating creak, the door opened and out stepped a tall motherfucker, with a crooked nose and a face that screamed ‘fucked up’, three angry red lines tracked down the side of his face. His creepy as fuck brown eyes, one slightly swollen from Svetlana’s handy work, dropped down to Mickey and he grunted out.

“Who you?”

Mickey rolled his eyes and before the guy could even blink, Mickey threw out his fist, feeling the familiar pain that shot through his hand when it connected with the fucker’s nose. The man stumbled back into his house and Mickey slammed his fist into his jaw, once, twice to get in further into the house before kicking the front door shut.

Don’t need eye-witnesses for this shit.

“Who the fuck are you!” The Russian fucker growled out, stumbling to his feet. He lunged at Mickey and with a small side step he fumbled past him, giving Mickey more than enough room to knee in the gut.

“You remember Svetlana? The woman you thought you could use as a,” He punched the asshole, feeling the anger burn through him, felt the way it fuelled his body, “ _FUCKING PUNCHING BAG!_ ”

The gun burned against his back but Mickey ignored it.

“The whore?” Dmitri spat out. He laughed under his breath and before Mickey could block it, a fist slammed against his jaw. Dizzied by the sudden attack, Mickey momentarily lost his footing. “Fucking bitch sent small man to—“

Mickey cut him, head butting the fucker. He watched, the taste of blood filling his mouth, as Dmitri dropped to the ground. He didn’t waste any time, he just let go, grabbing the front of the Dmitri’s shirt, pulling him up.

Yev’s small body, covered in nothing but a coat kept flashing before his eyes every time Dmitri’s face became less recognisable.

 _“Fucking! Piece! Of! Russian! Shit!”_ Mickey grunted out with every punch, going for the nose each and every time.

By the time all the anger was drained from his body, Mickey was panting heavily. He exhaled, staring down at Dmitri. “You come near my family ever again,” He reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out his gun. He relished in the fear that widened the asshole’s eyes. “I will put a bullet through your fucking head. You got me?”

Dmitri spat out some blood as he forced out a ‘ _YES_ ’.

Smirking, Mickey stood up, tucking the gun back into his jean. He didn’t bother looking back as he walked out the house, shaking his throbbing hand. He had just closed the door behind him when he saw a figure standing across the street, his face pale and red hair bright.

With a scowl, Mickey marched over to him and Ian met him halfway. “I told you to stay with---“

“Fiona’s with them.” Ian cut him off, green eyes dropping to the bruises on Mickey’s face. “I wasn’t gonna let you come here alone.” He turned to look to the right and when Mickey followed his eye line, he saw a pick-up truck sitting a few houses house. “Lip gave me a ride.”

“Jesus, fuck.” Mickey grunted out, glaring over to Ian. “You call the whole fucking squad?”

Ian moved, hand reaching out, placing it gently between Mickey’s shoulder blades and Mickey sunk back into the touch. He allowed Ian to steer him away from the house, walking slowly toward Lip, who, now that Mickey was closer, realised was sitting in Kev’s truck.

“Who the fuck else knows about this?” Mickey asked, his mind drifting toward Svetlana, knowing she could be pissed off at Ian for speaking about this shit to other people.

The hand on his hand lowered to the small of his back. “Kev told Vee you payed him a visit. Vee called Fiona, who called me. Kev said something about this asshole always having backup or some shit. I asked Fiona to watch over Lana and Yevy and Lip offered to give me a ride to this house. If you can call shoving me into the truck and telling me to shut the fuck up, an offer.”

Something in Mickey shifted at that. He still didn’t know how to handle the Gallagher’s and he highly doubt he’s gonna figure that out anytime soon. On their own he was okay, but the second they started moving around, helping out without having to be asked, that was when Mickey started feeling awkward.

They reached the truck and Mickey let Ian slide in first before he followed.

“Any trouble?” Lip asked the second Mickey closed the door, wasting no time to get the fuck out of this neighbourhood.

Mickey snorted. “Not if the fucker is smart.”

Lip hummed, adding nothing. A few minutes in, a warm hand covers his and Mickey rotated his hand, spreading his fingers for Ian to slip his through the gaps, curling them in, gripping onto Ian’s hand.

 

*

 

Nobody said a thing as they piled out of the truck. Ian’s hand slipped from his momentary but the second Ian closed the passenger door, Mickey felt a heated palm slide against his, fingers interlacing. He knew why Ian was doing this. Mickey felt it in the strength of his grip.

Unlike most people, Ian knew how much Mickey hated the violent side of himself. Mickey had said so himself, one night when both of them were sated after three rounds of fucking. He’d taken one look at the scratched he’d left on Ian’s back and suddenly, he didn’t find it so hot.

He didn’t know what came over him that night, maybe it was the fact that it was the first time they’d had sex since reconciling shit between them that caused Mickey to finally cash in their promise to each other to be honest and open even though neither of them saw the need to speak about their shit. A by-product of how they were raised.

“I don’t want to be like my dad.” Mickey had told him. “I fucking hate that side of me.”

Ian, who had been on the brink of passing, rolled over to face Mickey, green eyes wide and awake. He met Mickey’s bright blue eyes, saw something in there that stopped him from saying anything other than, “you’re nothing, and will _never_ be _anything_ like that monster.”

He grabbed Mickey’s hand, curled it into a fist and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. Ian didn’t let go of the hand the entire night.

With the small squeeze, Ian pulled Mickey back from the memory, turning them around and heading up to their house. Lip followed silently after them.

The door was unlocked and a small part of him had a comment curling around his tongue for Fiona for leaving the fucking door like that which died the second he spotted her, walking slowly around with a sleeping Yev in her arms.

Her head snapped up when she heard the front door opening. Wide brown eyes jumped from Ian and after a quick scan of his body they fell on Mickey and the look in her eyes knocked the breath right out of him.

Before he could open his mouth, Fiona was crossing the distance between them and like a natural mother she shifted Yev on the cradle of her left arm and wrapped the other around Mickey’s shoulders, pulling him for a tight hug.

“You reckless, over-protective little shit.” She breathed out, squeezing so hard Mickey winced.

It’s been years, and though he still hated physical affection from anyone that wasn’t Ian, Fiona Gallagher’s hugs was something he was forced to get used and had begrudging started liking.

“Jesus,” Mickey grunted, patting her back before shifting to get out of her hold that she thankfully relinquished a second later. He shot Ian a glare when he saw the small smile playing on his lips. “I’m fucking fine.” He muttered.

Lip snorted. “Think that will stop her from getting an aneurysm because of you.”

Mickey lifted his arm and flipped Lip off behind him. He moved without really thinking, gently taking his son out of Fiona’s arms, drawing the kid close to his chest when he started squirming.

“He woke up shortly after Ian left.” Fiona supplied. “Tried to pick him up before he woke Svetlana but the second I entered, she was up and out of the bed. After a few minutes of convincing her that you two were a sleep and that Mickey called me to drop off some extra clothes, I got her to go back to sleep.”

Mickey nodded, relieved. The last he wanted was for Svetlana to know he actually went to that fucker’s house.

“Thanks.” He heard Ian say, stepping forward just as Fiona reached over to hug him goodbye.

She nodded. “It’s no problem. You two should get some sleep though, kid’s gonna be up in a few hours again.”

Moving out of her way, Mickey shifted Yevgeny closer to his chest, watching as Ian walked Lip and Fiona to the door, nodding to Lip as a silent thanks and returning Fiona’s smile with a small one of his own.

The second the front door was closed and locked, Mickey felt his body sag as the tough-guy act instantly dropped without all the outsider eyes on him. He quietly moved toward the couch, lowering himself down onto it, his eyes fixed on his son’s peaceful face.

“Hey.” Ian said to get his attention as he claimed the spot next to Mickey. Shifting closer, Ian lifted his arm, placing it on the back of the couch and Mickey let himself curl into the redhead’s side. “You okay?”

Mickey didn’t reply.

Fingers scratched the back of his head and a second later, warm lips touched against his temple. “He’s okay, Mick.”

Fuck Ian for knowing him so well.

“Fucking couldn’t gave been. Motherfucker could have gotten to him and hurt him—“

“Svetlana wouldn’t have let that happen.” Ian cut him off gently. “You know that.”

“Still.”

Ian sighed softly. “She would not have let anything happen to him, Mickey. And as long as we are around, nothing bad will ever happen to him.”

Mickey shifted, tilting his head back to look Ian in the eyes, searching for that confidence and assurance. When he found it, he tried believing it too. Ian gave him a soothing smile, leaning down to kiss him as if that will solidify the promise.

“Wanna go to bed?” Ian asked when he pulled away.

Blue eyes fell down to Yevgeny, tracking the way his small chest rose and fell, the soft breaths that left through the small ‘o’ shape of his mouth. He eyed the few blonde strands that were making their appearance and wondered if Ian will ever wonder why, out of his entire family, only Mickey and Mandy had pitch black hair.

“Nah.” Mickey answered. “I’m cool here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so assume that somewhere in the past, Svet moved out or away with Yevgeny after Mickey and Ian got back together. Clearly, Mickey still had a relationship with his son and so did Ian.
> 
>  
> 
> Any idea (does not have to be for this verse) send it my way.
> 
> Leave it in the comment sections or hit me up on Tumblr @ jaceforreal


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